Magic Dress - Alice Pt. 02

CHAPTER 6

Walking further away from the city centre one day, I came across a construction site. Naturally I was interested, so spent a while looking. Someone who was obviously the foreman came across.

"Hello, darling," he said. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Nice JCBs," I said. "What sort of foundations are you doing?"

He was obviously surprised.

"Oh, right. You know about them then? Well, the answer is nothing at the moment because we're short of operators. Do you know someone who can do this stuff?"

"Yes," I said. "Me."

He smiled uncertainly.

"You're kidding!"

"No," I said, and rummaged in my handbag.

"Look, I've got my ACE card, so I'm competent to come on site. I can do excavation and piling."

I didn't really need the money just yet, and I was enjoying being a girl, so why had I said this? Because I liked digging and construction as well. It was more than a job, but something which gave me satisfaction from a skilled job well done. And I'm not bad at it!

He was surprised to see my card, with my male face of course.

"Well, er, Ellis. That seems to be OK."

"I don't always wear lipstick at work, and keep my hair short so I can wear a helmet. My tits don't show much in PPE, so most guys don't notice I'm a girl, unless they see me out in the evenings."

"Oh, right," he said.

"Give me the gear and I'll complete that section with the backhoe," I suggested. "Maybe I could do a few weeks work for you if it helps."

He hesitated. What was he thinking?

"Let me show you what I can do. If it's not good enough, I'll push off. If it's OK, think about taking me on. Either way, I'll give you a handjob, no obligation."

Had I really said that?

Yes. I wanted to show him I was a good JCB operator. And I wanted to give another handjob. Which was the excuse for the other?

Anyway, it worked. He didn't say he was taking me up on the offer, but just took me to a cabin, sorted out overalls, and found a pair of safety boots in my size, then left me to get togged up.

I came out and showed him what I could do, which was pretty good, if I say so myself. I saw several guys watching. Afterwards I went and washed and changed back. This time I tucked myself back.

He didn't say anything but took me into a store room with no windows, so I knew what he was expecting.

"A deal's a deal," I said, smoothing my skirt down over my crotch then up across one of my fake tits, just like Anne had done with me, and he licked his lips.

He was already half hard as he got it out. It was sweaty and smelled a bit, quite different from Charlotte. If anything, that made it better, as in worse was better. More dirty, more male.

I can't really explain how excited I was, despite the fact that my cock was sleeping peacefully. I must have been enjoying it as much as he was as I wanked away carefully. Not having the feedback made it different and interesting. This must be how it is for a woman. And the power! I liked it.

Liked it a lot.

There was no way I was going to put my mouth on it, so I got to enjoy it spurting out onto the floor. Much better than seeing it on the internet -- the real thing! I pretty much knew I was addicted.

Not under the care of Anne and Charlotte, just with a strange man, that had not asked me. I had offered myself.

Once he had recovered, he wiped himself and the floor with some paper towels.

"So what did you think about my performance?" I asked, and before he could respond, added "both jobs?"

"Both very good," he said. "Maybe I could offer you a job if you..."

"How much?" I said, and he told me.

"No way!" was my reply. (In the past I would have said 'Fuck off!' but it seemed I really was more of a lady.) "I'm not a labourer's mate, I'm a skilled operative. Pay the rate or wait."

I went towards the door, and he made another offer. I stood and looked at him. By inspiration, I ran my hands up and down myself.

"Look, honestly," he said and told me what the last guy had been getting.

"That sounds reasonable," I said.

"And will you be reasonable as well?"

"How do you mean?"

"A handjob every day?"

"Every week," I said.

"Every other day," he countered.

"Twice a week," I said and he agreed. Well, I didn't want to feel like a slut.

Of course, I hadn't thought it through, but Charlotte and Anne did.

"You crafty bitch!" said Anne with a smile. "Every day on a site with lots of big hairy, sweaty men! More fool me for working in an office!"

It would be odd for me to turn up to work at a building site in a dress, but they supplied me with some female jeans, filled out with a bit of hip and bum padding, so that I had some shape. I also wore a cap. Despite what I had told the foreman, I always wore lipstick and eyeliner.

I tucked my cock back going to or from work, but not when I was in overalls. I also tucked back when I changed to give the foreman his handjob.

Women are not unknown on construction sites, but mainly things like a visiting architect or civil engineer, or sometimes in site offices. I was still a novelty, operating the machines, particularly the piledriver for the foundations. I wasn't a glamourpuss, but maybe I was convincing as a plain girl, the sort you might expect to do what I was doing. And on the job, it didn't matter. I concentrated, and everyone who didn't wish to get swiped or mangled by a machine followed the rules around me, or acted as my guides where necessary.

There were practical issues. Fortunately, I had a private space in a cabin to change, so at lunch time I shaved and put some concealer on my chin to last the day, before coming out to socialize and possibly give someone a treat. It wasn't automatic, just a favour from me. I made it clear that offers of money or outright bribes would be most unwelcome. It didn't take long to acquire a couple of cocks eager for release attached to friendly and helpful men.

I sometimes saw them in the evenings, for a drink, a dance and maybe a handjob. But I made it clear there was no commitment and no favourites. And anyway, I wasn't ready to be fucked by anyone but Charlotte (which was not very often), though I practised with a rubber dildo on a sucker.

I liked the money, I liked the attention, but I really liked the work. I still did.

And gradually my handjob service expanded amongst those who treated me right. They ended up taking it in turns to buy me flowers at the end of the week. It surprised me how much it meant.

Anne was jealous. Mainly of the flowers.

CHAPTER 7

I knew what I had to say, and who to say it to. It was a private consultation, not an NHS one, so I got to choose, and I had asked around in the gender diverse community. Dr Cauthorn was the one recommended. A man who prided himself on his insight and originality. A specialist in psychosexual problems. And someone I was paying.

"I'm a gay man," I said. "I've come to terms with that, and I enjoy being receptive: I don't want to be the active partner. But it's my cock. It really bothers me because it doesn't work, and partners sort of expect it to. They want to please me, but I don't want it at all. I just wish it was gone. I think it's really harming my relationships. I don't want to be transgender: I just like crossdressing. It bothers me so much every day. Is there any way I could just lose it?"

He was delighted, but tried to hide it with pretence of deep thought and several expensive sessions.

I was introduced to an NHS surgeon who did MTF surgery. With him I had various conversations until my idea became his suggestion.

"Now what we normally do is to effectively turn the penis inside out to line the neovagina, and use the head to give a sensitive clitoris. I'm sorry that in your case you will get no benefit, so it's really a matter of psychology. You say you have a partner who prefers anal sex, and it gives you satisfaction, as a gay man, so it's up to you. I will say that simple penectomy is an appropriate operation."

"As you don't want to lose your testicles, but will not obviously be going to have children, why don't I tuck them into the body, and do what I normally do to give the impression of female genitals? They only need to hang down for sperm production. You should still get the same hormones and could present as male or female however you wish in future."

I thought that was a very clever idea, and offered to go private to have it sooner, which he thought was an excellent plan (for my psychosexual health, not the money, of course).

The main thing was I had the outer lips and a neat piss-hole, so I looked and worked perfectly for everyday usage. He had automatically kept a bit of my knob to make a clit, but it wouldn't work, of course.

I worked on the construction site not for just a few weeks, but until the machines and my skills were no longer needed, so I finished work and then went for the operation and recovery. (The advantage of going private instead of NHS, as I could book the date for my convenience.)

I didn't know who or how, but I received several bunches of flowers with a little card from the construction company.

I had been lying to Dr Cauthorn, of course. I didn't feel like a gay man. I felt like a woman, and much more so now my useless member had been removed. I hadn't been sure if I should keep my balls or not, but was afraid I would lose my desire like Anne feared.

Dr Cauthorn came to see me. I thanked him for his help and he tried to sell me some more counselling. When I made it clear I didn't need it, he made out like he was just being a friend. Then he tried to get me to talk about how much I wanted cock, so I played along, seeing him get excited. I said how much I was looking forward to my next cocks, and he tried to look meaningfully at me.

"Incidentally," I said when I thought the moment had come, "I've got a friend, with a similar problem, but it's not physical, just a mental block. He wants to keep his balls, but hates his cock. Unfortunately, I think his psychologists don't have your insight and are a bit stuck in their ways."

I could see him standing a little straighter. With a stiff cock, a sense of his own excellence, and the prospect of a fee at the back of his mind, he was hooked. Of course, he would be glad to help. If my friend cared to make an appointment...

I left hospital and went to Charlotte and Anne's flat. Charlotte slept in my flat (alone or not, depending) and I lived in their flat with Anne acting as nurse, while I recovered. They both took some days or half days off, maybe a bit more than necessary. I was pleased when Anne finally brought a hairy man home to entertain her.

CHAPTER 8

A while later she brought two and I was surprised. I was healed up, but had not yet been out in the evening.

"One for me, one for you!" she said. "This is Mark and Mike. They're not related but I'm not the only one that gets them confused."

She took one away, and left me with a final year civil engineering student (Mike), big and hairy. Anne had told him about my job and he was genuinely interested, so we had a discussion about the job I had done abroad. Not exactly romantic, but an ice-breaker.

Meanwhile, Anne had been well and truly fucked, and the two of them came out of the bedroom for a break, so we had a coffee together.

Eventually, Mike excused himself to go to the bathroom. When he came back, he just held out his hand. I got up, took it, and led him to the bedroom. Then rushed off to the bathroom to prepare myself. I am afraid it wasn't very quick.

He was in bed, looking a bit miffed, when came back, but brightened up as I entered in a nightdress.

And I suddenly went shy.

It was not like giving a handjob when fully clothed. It was not like with Charlotte, an intimate friend and a shemale.

This was essentially a straight man, looking for a fuck. And I didn't have tits like Anne.

"Sorry," I said. "I don't think I can."

His face fell.

"Well, of course if you don't want to, I'll leave. Or perhaps we could go back to the living room and talk."

"No," I said. "It's not that I don't want to. I'm afraid I'm not good enough."

He looked puzzled.

"Anne told me that her friend said you were a really good fuck, and I like you. So what's the problem?"

"I haven't got nice tits like Anne," I said, beginning to cry.

He held out his arms, and somehow, I went to them. He pulled back the covers and I saw a hairy chest and cock before I was under them, and he was kissing my face.

"I won't force you," he said gently.

"Anne's got nice boobs, I'll grant you, but I get plenty of those. I just like fucking arse and not many women will let me."

I was sort of crouching in the bed, almost in a foetal position, but he gently opened me out and helped me out of my nightdress, revealing my pathetic chest. I was going to say something, but he put his finger over my lips, and then took off my panties.

"Ah," he said. "Now this is nice."

It was the first real man apart from the medics who had seen my new front. I looked down as well. It was nice. I had often admired it, but it was good to have someone else do it.

He put his hand on my fake pussy, and I felt a sudden bolt of excitement, despite the voice in the back of my head saying it wasn't real, there was nothing there.

He started stroking me. Not trying to finger my clit, just stroking. My hair had grown back.

"Nice bush," he said.

It was impossible. I had no clit. There were no nerves to respond. There was no way to stimulate me.

But somehow his general stroking around was really exciting!

Soon we were kissing.

Charlotte kept herself smooth, of course. I had never been particularly hairy myself, and kept my body hair down, apart from my pubes, which I had been advised to leave alone as a I healed. Now he had called them a nice bush!

(Actually, I think he's right. A nice triangle with neat lips just showing. The surgeon did well.)

But feeling his hairy body against me: his legs, his belly, his chest, his chin, was stimulating me in a way I had never experienced. Now I understood what Anne got from it!

His hand was between my legs, reaching further back between my cheeks. Then he took it away, and pressed his hard cock against me as he reached behind and started stroking my bum, his fingers slipping between them until he found his target, which he pressed gently.

"Yes?" he said.

"Yes," I answered.

"Excuse me," he said and rolled off. He laid me on my front then carefully put on a condom close to my face, so I could see and smell his cock and balls.

He got a blob of lubricant from the bedside dispenser onto his finger, and pressed his finger into me. I had checked I was empty, and had put some lube inside me in the bathroom. His finger went all the way in.

He slipped his other hand under my pussy. It felt awesome to be possessed from front and back!

Afterwards I realised it was purely psychological. I didn't have the nerves. But I just gave myself up to it, as I felt pleasure right through my pussy to my arse as his two hands gently loved me.

I was panting, and he said "I think you're ready."

He pulled a pillow down, and rolled me onto it so that I was on my back with my hips raised and my knees up. He put some more lubricant in and around.

He went down to the bottom of the bed, and I watched as this big hairy man rubbed lubricant over his big stiff cock and slowly climbed up the bed towards me. Closer. Closer.

Then that cock was touching my hole. He stayed there for a moment as I was willing it to go in.

Slowly it entered till I felt it all the way and his hairy balls on my bum.

He smiled as he adjusted his weight on my hips, then lowered himself on his elbows.

As he began to move, I was on the verge of tears I was so happy. I reached around him and felt his hairy back. Then his bearded face was kissing me, as his cock thrust in and out, picking up speed until it was just right.

It didn't feel like an arse-fucking. It was just a man fucking a woman. Me!

It got better and better until I had a strange but gorgeous feeling I didn't quite recognise or understand, and he immediately started to come, pushing as deep into me as he could, before collapsing on my chest.

I stroked his hair.

"You're fantastic!" he said, a little hoarsely.

"It was lovely," I answered, then pushed him a little as I felt the wetness and realised what I had done.

I had pissed myself! All of a sudden it had gone wrong!

"Sorry!" I said, as he rolled off and out.

"For what?" he asked, putting his hand on my wet pussy. "I didn't know you were a squirter."

He licked his hand.

"No problem for me. Very nice indeed, in fact. You're going to be very popular. Excuse me."

He got up and took off the condom, then went to the bathroom.

I felt myself. It was a bit slimy. The strange sensation was when I had ejaculated and pissed a bit at the same time.

Suddenly I was happy to be a squirting woman!

I got off the bed carefully. Actually, only a little pee had gone on the pillow and none on the bed. Most of it was on our bodies. There was also a clear lube mark from my buttocks. Maybe he had been a bit generous.

I wiped myself with some tissues, and waited till he came back to the bedroom, then scuttled out.

Anne intercepted me before the bathroom.

"OK?" she whispered, anxiously.

"Lovely!" I said, and she kissed me.

"That's my girl!"

When I got back to the bedroom he had gone, so I put on a dressing gown and went to the living room.

"Here she is!" said Mike standing up, and kissing me. He put his arm around my shoulders and turned to the others.

"Anne, you know you're the best, but Alice is quite something! I think you've got a treat in store, Mark!"

Actually, it took the wind out of my sails.

I didn't want another man tonight. I wanted to leave it just there. I had just been nicely fucked.

I didn't want to perform, and I knew I wouldn't squirt, so Mark would be disappointed.

Obviously, Anne had been kind. She liked to be fucked by two different men when she could, and more than once if possible. She thought it would be a treat.

"Don't look so disappointed," said Mark. "I didn't think I was that ugly!"

"Oh shit!" said Mike. "I didn't mean..."

I ran to the bedroom, cursing myself.

Why was I being such a wimp? It was what I wanted. To be fucked and fucked again. Lots of cocks, lots of men. Of course, twice in one night, if I could get it.

No-one would expect me to squirt every time. So long as the cock came, we would both be satisfied.

I was simultaneously excited and miserable, as I flopped on the bed. The way I had thrown myself down, my face was on the pillow I had marked, so I had some lube in my ear and piss on my lips as I added my tears to the mess.

As I wallowed in feeling sorry for myself, there was a knock and Charlotte came in, and put her hand gently on me. Anne must have phoned her.

"It's OK," she said. "You've just had a bit of a shock. I'll take you back to your flat and stay with you, or leave you alone, whichever you like. Anne will take care of the boys. Come on."

I allowed her to take me to my flat.

"Sorry if I spoiled your evening," I said.

"I was by myself," she assured me. I noticed she had no makeup apart from lipstick, which she must have put on to come round. So it was probably true.

"Let's get you cleaned up, and into bed," was the next thing. It was a bit like Mummy when you're a child, putting a flannel around my intimate parts quite unconcerned. Quite comforting.

Then I was dressed in a fresh nightie, and she hugged my face to her boobs in bed.

I must have fallen asleep, because I had slobbered on her. She was still awake.

"Tell me all about it," she said.

So I started with coming out of the bedroom and what Mike had said. It wasn't so bad this time. To be honest, it started to seem a bit silly. Had I over-reacted?